The Chronicles of Anar
by MarshalloftheNorth
Summary: Anar of Lindon i s Noldorin warrior, ranigng the old realm of Arnor. A loner and a fierce fighter Anar seems to find trouble at every turn.


The Tales of Anar, warrior of Lindon and Wanderer of the North

Icy snow fell from the sky as the bitter winds of winter swept across Northern Arnor. A lone figure cloaked in black strode quickly across the fresh-fallen snow, seemingly unaffected by the bitter cold and leaving hardly a footprint in the swirling white plain. His ancient staff he used as a walking stick, though it made only a quarter-staff. He held a bit of cloth around the cast iron rod to keep it from freezing his fingers; though the cold did not affect him much it could still damage him. He didn't exactly have a destination, for he was a wanderer, seeking adventures. At some point he purposed to head south and visit the realms of Gondor and Rohan and territories of Rhovanian and Dar South, but not now. For tonight he turned his path towards Amon Sul. Most of the locals called in Weathertop, but he still called the broken tower by its ancient name, as the few who remained from long ago all did. Many of these lands he had known by different names. He remembered a time when Mirkwood was called Greenwood, and when the Withered Heath and the Dragon's Lair where still Erebor, and like Moria where swarming with dwarves. Now of course orcs and dragons had driven the dwarves from many of their mountain strongholds.

As the hill came in sight he caught a glimpse of another figure moving up its slopes. He continued forward, but brought his staff into a ready stance; he was sure the stranger had seen him, his cloak stood out a black speck on an ocean of snow. He hadn't gotten a proper look at the stranger's face, but he guessed it to be a Dunedain Ranger. Few others traveled alone in the northern country. As he neared the hill, he sent a message into the stranger' mind _Who are you_. Telepathy has its uses, he thought. _Relax Anar its me_ the person thought. From this Anar knew it was a friend, no one else would know both his name and to communicate to him by mental thoughts. Just to be sure however…._Who are you?_ He asked again. It never hurt to be sure. _Illinal_ the person thought. Satisfied, Anar continued towards the hill. He arrived there in about aminute, and climbed the slope to the top. There he saw Illinal sitting, a fire lit, roasting some meat. At first he questioned the wisdom of a blaze, but with the storm now raging into a blizzard outside it seemed unlikely anyone would see the smoke.

"Anar, what are you doing in this area of Arnor?" Illinal asked. He was always keeping track of where people where, probably why he was so important to the Dunedain.

"Oh I go here and there, just so happening to be here at the moment," Anar answered nonchalantly. His movements made little sense to tohers, even he sometimes didn't know why he went certainplaces.

"Well I suppose with you here we'll have some excitement," Illinal replied, alluding to Anar's penchant for finding trouble.

"If trouble comes I'll be ready, but I doubt we'll run into much trouble now." Anar said.

"Maybe, maybe not. Where are you headed?" Illinal asked.

"Oh nowhere really. I might take a jaunt down towards Fornost and then head towards Dunland. Or drop in on the shire somewhere, you never know," Anar answered truthfully; his travel plans were always in motion.

"Fornost, eh?" Illinal asked, "Why would you go there?"

"To keep an eye on what might be happening there. Angmar may be broken but Fornost is still a stronghold of the enemy in the north." Anar said thoughtfully.

"Well if you find anything out let me know," Illinal said ernestly, "Peace in the north is the one of the main jobs of the Dunedain."

"Don't worry," Anar replied, "I can't take on all of the Witch-King's host alone."

"Though you would try," Illinal said teasingly. Anar was known for fighting his way out of bad situations.

"I might, but I'm not always the first one to draw a blade," Anar said mock-defensively.

"No, you're one of the few warriors left in the north." Illinal replied gravely, "Too often people get caught up soldiering and don't worry about the war as much as about the battle."

"If anything the battle suffers because I watch the war and its tactics too closely," Anar admitted. He and Illinal had fought through many battles and dangers.

"Come, the hour grows late," Illinal said. "We must rest. I'll watch first."

"You forget, my friend," Anar said, "That elves need no sleep. I am refreshed from my journey. Go ahead and sleep; I will watch." With that, Illinal lay down to sleep and Anar stood watching.


End file.
